Chapter 4

When Cameron came back upstairs from the laundry room, she found House sitting on their bed with his back against the pillows. She hesitated as she took in his bare feet and his long jean-covered legs. She noticed he was bare-chested as well, as he read over some files–which, she thought to herself, meant he must be wearing his reading glasses. Yummy, he was. She wondered how he could still have this effect on her after being with him these last four years, and having known his touch for the past nineteen. But he did, and when he glanced over the top of his glasses to look at her, she knew he could see the pink hue to her cheeks.

"I thought you said you were going to come right up for a shower."

"I was," she told him as she moved to her dresser and pulled out a night shirt and a pair of white lace panties. "I still am. I just wanted to put a load of laundry in."

He went back to his file, evidently dismissing her, and she went into their bathroom where she turned on the shower and adjusted the water. She certainly needed this warm pulsating spray beating down against her muscles after the day she had.

She thought back to her awakening at six o'clock that morning as a certain little girl crawled up onto her parents' bed and rolled over top of her mother until she slid between mommy and daddy. Cameron had to smile in spite of herself as she watched her daughter give a wide yawn, then turn her back toward her father and pull her little hands up under her chin as she looked back at her mother.

"Mommy?"

"Hmmm?"

"I think I might almost be hungry," she said as she picked up a strand of her mother's hair and played with it.

"You think you might almost be? And when do you think you might know for sure?"

"Mommy–I know."

"Do you know what you're hungry for?"

"Mm-hmm. I want berry cakes and syrup."

"Then I guess I better get up so you'll have time to have your blueberry pancakes with syrup, before we have to leave for daycare."

"Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"Why do I have to go to daycare every day? Why can't I stay with you and Daddy?'

"Because Daddy and I have big-people work that needs to be done. We need to help people get better. Anyway, you like going to play with Jessica, don't you?"

"Uh–huh. But sometimes Jess cries 'cause she wants Unca James."

"Well, she's still only two years old. She isn't a big girl like you."

"Will she be a big girl when she's three?"

"Um, yes. I'm sure she will be. But that's two months away yet. Give her time. She doesn't cry for him all the time, does she?"

"No, just when he brings her. Then I have to take her to the Dora doll and play with her–and then he leaves."

"That's very nice of you. You take good care of Jessica."

"Uh-huh. Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"Why does Daddy sleep so long?"

"Because a certain little girl comes and crawls into his bed and talks and talks and talks–and no matter how much he tries, he can't sleep through it," came the gruff voice from behind her, widening her eyes immediately as she stared at her mother, then prompting her to spin around and get onto her knees as she leaned over him and stared into his one open eye.

"Daddy! You're awake! Do you want berry cakes too?"

"No," he said as he turned on his other side, facing his wife and daughter, then spread the little girl on the bed until she was lying beside him and he put his arm over her and nestled his face against her hair. "I want to go back to sleep. You should try it too–you might actually like it."

"Kay," she said as she hugged her arms around her fathers forearm and closed her eyes. Cameron lay smiling at them as she watched, both seemingly sound asleep for nearly a full minute before Dee started to squirm and opened her eyes. "No. I want berry cakes."

House sighed as he simply lifted his arm and allowed her to climb off the bed, then he nestled his face against his pillow in an attempt to get a few more minutes of sleep.

Cameron dropped Dee off at the hospital's daycare center on the third floor, then made her way to the Diagnostics Department where she entered the conference room and started to make the pot of coffee. She looked back through the doorway, knowing that her husband would be coming soon after his morning ritual of stopping in to bait his best friend, and she looked once again at the names House, Foreman and Cameron-House printed on the door. She liked the fact that even though he had tried a few other doctors to replace her while she was on maternity leave, in the end, he preferred to hire her back as his equal, no longer his student. Foreman, had had the privilege of this advancement six months before her, and in the end, they were running the department quite well. Chase, on the other hand, though a brilliant diagnostician, moved on to the Surgical Department.

The day began with a bang as they brought a twelve-year-old girl through the emergency department and sent her case on to Diagnostics. Between the three of them, they were running throughout the morning, trying to find their answers and by lunchtime she couldn't even find the time to have her usual salad with her daughter. So, it was decided that House would take his Reuben up to the third floor, then take Dee into a doctor's lounge with him and together they would eat and watch soaps.

Cameron was somewhat glad to have had a busy day, it kept her from pointing her focus on Tony. She had been putting off the realization that he was indeed no longer a minor; that two months ago he had legally become an adult. It was only his daily attendance as a senior at the local high school that kept that reality from becoming too clear. But tonight he was taking his first step into freedom when he attended the prom–and in two more days, he would graduate on the distinguished honor roll. After that it would be a summer of God only knew what–then he would be off to live in a different city as he went to college. He was no longer her child–he was legally a man.

She felt extremely lucky when they found their answers regarding the girl shortly after lunch and she was very happy the youngster would be fine. This allowed her and House to get home in plenty of time to be with Tony before he left for his formal dance.

And now she stood in the bathroom, looking in the mirror at the disheveled hair that was still a bit damp from giving her daughter a bath and the blouse that showed signs of being splashed with bath water as well. She moved her hand over her hair and sighed. She thought about the man reading on their bed at that moment and dropped her eyes as she began undressing for her shower. To say the past four years had been kind to him would be putting it lightly. God, he seemed to be getting better with age. At fifty-one, almost fifty-two, he still had the capability to stop her in her tracks with a single look. He was spectacular.

She wondered what he saw when he looked at her with her red-rimmed eyes as she cried at the thought of letting go of her son; wondered what he thought as he watched her helping to potty train their daughter the year before, or now, wiping hands and a messy mouth more than she thought was possible. Not that he didn't have his share of potty calls or fast handy work with tissues for a nose that had a tendency to run at the most inopportune times–because he did–and he did it without batting an eye. He would then go about his business, all the while maintaining his virile charisma. She had even seen him walking through the clinic and telling Dee to blow her nose, which turned out to be a two-tissue blow, and saw the nurses almost swoon at what a "wonderful father he turned out to be." While every time she had Dee in the clinic with a runny nose and she wiped it, she more or less got the "eww" look from them.

She opened the door to the shower and stepped inside, letting the warm water pound against her stiff muscles and begin the process of relaxing them. She moved up against the wall and rested her face against the cool tile with both hands at shoulder level, taking the pleasure the warm pulsating jets provided. She could stand here for hours, she thought to herself–or not, she thought again as she heard the door open behind her. She was about to turn to see why Dee was awake and not in bed fast asleep, but a hand, much larger than Dee's, was placed on her back and held her against the wall.

"No–don't move."

"Well," she moaned as he moved up behind her and pressed his entire length against her, entwining his fingers with hers and dipping his head so he could nip at her shoulder. "This is a surprise. You aren't the person I was expecting."

"Oh, really?" He asked as he pulled back slightly and moved his hands to her hips. "And just whom were you expecting? The postman?"

"They say he always rings twice," she gave a throaty laugh as she felt him press himself against her firm bottom.

"Rings what?" House asked as he gently rubbed his groin against her.

"My bell, of course."

"Ah, baby, I can ring your bell more than twice," he positioned himself so his length rode between her thighs and he started moving as he gave them both pleasure with this simple act. "You know that, though. Don't you?"

"Is that a promise? Are you going to ring my bell at least three times tonight?" She asked, her voice already becoming drugged with the passion he stirred inside of her.

"What the hell–let's aim for half a dozen."

He pulled her back from the wall, completely, pressing his body against hers as he wrapped his arms around her with one hand going to cover her right breast while his other hand dipped lower and found the curls he was seeking. She felt his scruff as he kissed her neck and the side of her throat, felt his tongue soothing the areas he had scratched. The sensation of him riding between her legs; the immenseness of his size as it pressed along her sensitive skin was making her knees weak, and the strumming of his fingers was quickening her breath. She held onto his hands with her own, massaging the same breast that he was massaging as her fingers mingled with his, and holding his other hand to her mound as the expertise of his digits were making her press back against him even harder.

"Oh, Greg, I'm getting close," she breathed as her head rested back on his shoulder. "What about you? I need to take care of you."

"You will."

He bit down on her shoulder, almost breaking the skin and bringing a gasp from her as she ground her bottom back against his groin and she felt the climax roll through her. He let her ride out her pleasure as he held her on her feet and slowly licked the area he had just wounded.

"I–I need to sit down," she breathed heavily as he withdrew his fingers from the front of her and backed away from her enough to allow her to turn.

"Then sit down," he told her, taking her hands as she sat on the indented seat on the back of the shower stall.

He turned the nozzle of the water so that the spray wasn't hitting them and he stood in front of her. His fingers went to her face, stroking her cheeks until she looked up and he knew, that she knew, what he wanted. How could she not know? He didn't attempt to hide his desire for her as he stood before her. So, she allowed him to grab onto the top of the shower door and the hand rail on the other side.

She reached out and placed both of her hands around his throbbing size and squeezed it enough to bring a low groan from him. Then she directed it to her lips, where her tongue came out and twirled around its tip. She moved her tongue over him, going from his base to the very end then after each stroke, she would bury it inside her mouth. She knew his signals, his sounds, his movements and at precisely the correct moment, she kept his member inside her mouth and started sucking. She could see his stance getting stiffer and stiffer until finally he could hold back no more and his left hand went to the back of her head and he stroked himself in and out of her perfect lips.

"Jesus–God–but you are the most amazing fucking woman I've ever known." He panted as he looked down at her, watching her perform this ultimate act of love on him and when she looked back at him with her green eyes sparkling with emotion, he could control it no longer and let his pleasure be heard as he nearly roared her name.

She got to her feet and continued smiling slyly at him, then allowed him to switch places with her as his leg was beginning to show signs of fatigue. She picked up her shower gel and squirted it over her breasts, then over his shoulders and chest before she straddled his good leg and watched as he leaned back against the wall and started washing her breasts with his hands.

"That was one," she said. "Five more to go."